To answer your question of whether I "went back," tits just informed me I was kicked out for falling off my barstool and passing out on the floor...
Raging hang over. 6AM finish. Shat on a bag of trash in an alley. D L that last bit.
Boys can't fool me. I know "want to come up and meet my dogs?" is just a nondirect way of saying "come up and meet my penis".
I mean can we take a second to high five on our sex life? I love us.
i just unblacked out cuddled in a pita pit booth with ten dollars rubberbanded to my hand.
They installed a lotion dispenser in the bathroom at work... its like they want me to masturbate on the clock...
do you still have a key to my apartment? Without going into too much detail locked myself out naked on the patio, currently using a deck cushion to cover myself so kids walking home from school dont see me
Sorry, but when you makeout with a guy in a panda suit, you know something has to change.
There is blood on my sheets, we apparently used 8 towels, everything in my shower is knocked down. Wut?
He'd pee in it. And since it's PBR I'd have no idea
I mean, as I was vomiting in front of a giant crucifix I became acutely aware of my poor choices
I found my soulmate. Behold my idiot as we spaz into the sunset.
I've got to stop being so hungover that I puke in the fine establishments of this glorious town.
Is it bad that I'm not at all bothered by the fact that to some people I'm simply known as the girl that takes her shirt off?
Did you get good sleep?
I dreamt that I was a lipstick lesbian in the 1950s, working at Walgreens and solving mysteries.
So yes.
Randomize
